The Eight Foretold: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe
by SilverZelenia
Summary: The Pevensies were not the only children to stumble into Narnia, oh no - how could such a silly notion as that come to pass? One thing is for certain, though: a lion, talking animals, mean housekeepers, and odd professors were most definitely not included in the Parkers' idea of what the evacuation would be like. AU - OCs, book-movie mix. No pairings in this one.


**The Eight Foretold - The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe**

**Prologue**

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Evelyn Claire Parker was dead to the world - that was how she always was at night. When she finally got to sleep, she could sleep through anything, from screaming siblings to - as her family sometimes liked to say - if she was hit by a train.

This was most definitely _not _a good thing.

Eveleyn was startled awake by a shouting voice in her face, and the drone of sirens that plagued London.

"Evelyn, _wake up_!" Her mother was shaking her frantically by the shoulders, and the next thing she knew she was being hauled, still half-asleep, out her bedroom door.

She stumbled when the ground shook beneath them as they raced outside into the cold night air; her mother pulled her back up with a rough jerk. A great flash lit up the sky far too close for comfort, and Evelyn gave a sharp cry as a piece of debris flew past, slicing her arm.

Evelyn was pushed inside the bomb shelter, bare feet stumbling over the steps, and landed with a forced exhale as her mother slammed the door shut. The red-haired woman sat against the door, eyes closed and breathing hard.

A _boom _made the walls around them tremble. There was a whimper and someone caught Evelyn's arm in a tight grip; she looked down to see the wide, terrified eyes of her raven-haired little brother, Henry.

The booming, thunderous crashes sounded again above them, and this time Evelyn had to catch herself against the wall the ground shook so hard. Both she and her mother settled against the wall where her other two siblings, Molly and William, where huddled. Henry situated himself between his oldest sister and mother, knees drawn to his chest, and started playing with a piece of Eveleyn's long red hair.

Evelyn detested the bomb shelter. Well, actually, she detested Adolf Hitler, detested the war, detested her father going away, she _detested_ a number of things. What really got her about the bombings and the shelter, though, was the sheer boredom. She'd never been good at entertaining herself, and she tended to get on other people's nerves when she was shut up in places like this. She just... she couldn't sit _still__. _

Sure, she could technically sit in one spot for a while, but she had to be doing something. Even subconciously, her fingers would start fiddling with her hair, draw a pattern on the ground, or more commonly, tap out a rythym with her knuckles - it drove Molly ballistic. Molly, you see, was largely the opposite of Evelyn in personality, and the two sisters arguing was commonplace.

Without fail, it started in mere minutes - Evelyn found a stone on the floor and began tossing it up in the air, bouncing it off of the ceiling and back down. After observingseveral throws, William joined in, and Henry did after another moment, so they were throwing in a triangular shape.

It was proving a good distraction - it even ellicited a laugh from Henry and a small smile from their mother - until Henry's toss went off course, and the stone hit the back of the book Molly was reading by flashlight.

"Would you _stop it_!" The shriek from the 3rd eldest sibling made Henry flinch, which in turn angered the older sister.

"Hey, don't yell at Henry!"

"You shouldn't be throwing that in here, you could put someone's eye out!" Molly yelled back at her redheaded sister, book laying on the floor as she stood up so that their faces were right in close to one another.

"Girls!" Their mother interrupted; Henry and William had backed into the corner - both of them had learned by that point that when Molly and Evelyn had a row, it was better to just get out of the line of fire.

"Don't tell me what to do!"

"Well if would just stop and use your brain, I wouldn't have to! Honestly - "

"Don't try to act like the boss, Molly! You're not mum and the only one you're older than here is Henry! You don't have to go around acting like an arse all the - "

"Evelyn!" The sisters - whose arguement looked almost humorous due to the considerable height difference between the 14 and 10 year old girls - were interrupted by their mother once more. She had a scandalized look on her face as she glared at them sternly.

"Molly, read your book; Evelyn, find something else to occupy yourself with, and _mind your language_, young lady!"

Molly sat back down with a huff; Evelyn muttered, "Spoilsport," gave her sister a harsh glare, and settled against the opposite wall with her brothers. Mrs. Parker gave a sigh and closed her eyes, once more leaning against the wall.

The sounds of London being destroyed above them reigned supreme for the rest of the restless night, until it quieted. All four children looked up hopefully; Molly even looked up from her book when it seemed the night's attack might be over.

Mrs. Parker pushed the door cautiously open a mere crack. Upon seeing a sunrise clear of planes, and other shelter doors opening, she threw it open and climbed up. Her children followed close behind; Henry coughed, smoke stinging his eyes, but their mother's steps faltered and stopped completely just a few feet outside the shelter.

Their home was flattened and burning.

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**Hi hi! :D Yes, this is an AU with OCs. Has this been done before? Loads of times. Do I care? No. This is purely for fun and to exercise my writing skills - don't like, don't read. It's told from the Parker children's POV, and it will have some new plot lines aside from the main ones by the awesome C.S Lewis. Also, to clarify, the Parkers are native Londoners, but from a different area from the Pevensies, and they've never met each other before. Also, Evelyn has what we would call ADHD (and a strong case of it), but I've checked and that term was not around in 1940. Another point to clarify - this is mainly book verse, but may have a few movie bits. Ths is the prologue, 898 words not including this note, and chapters will be longer. Reviews loved, critique welcome, flames will be used to bake cookies for the reviewers! Aaaand I'll shut up now. ;D**


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